


Conversations at the End of the World

by amillionand1fandoms



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, implied past suicidal thoughts, takes place sometime after Arthur returns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amillionand1fandoms/pseuds/amillionand1fandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Whatever happened to Excalibur?” Arthur asks one day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations at the End of the World

“Whatever happened to Excalibur?” Arthur asks one day, a little bit too casually to indicate true carelessness. He doesn’t expect the question to shake Merlin, though he’s not really surprised when the other man flinches and looks away. For all he looks like he hasn’t aged a day, his friend has lived whole centuries that Arthur knows nothing about and often he reacts unexpectedly to things.

“I buried it with _you_. It’s not my fault you were too lazy to keep track of it,” Merlin says, and the teasing tone sounds normal enough.

“I was a little too dead to keep track of anything, Merlin.”

“Only mostly dead,” When Arthur stares at him, he waves a hand dismissively, “Nevermind.”

“Anyway, I didn’t have it when I… woke up. You sure you never came back and picked it up or anything?” Arthur asks, cautious of saying the wrong thing but not quite willing to give up the line of questioning. He had _really_ liked that sword.

“I was tempted, a time or two.” The words are light, but Merlin’s smile has gone slightly brittle and he paused too long before he answered.

“Shame. The one I’ve got now is good, but it just doesn’t have the same feel to it. Of course, I didn’t pull this one out of a stone,” He speaks lightly, as if Merlin’s response had been normal, in an attempt to uplift the conversation and, by extension, his friend. Merlin gives him a wry look that says he sees right through Arthur, but he smiles nonetheless.

“It’s because Excalibur was forged in a dragon’s breath,” he responds, shifting into his not quite condescending let’s-teach-Arthur-voice, “Swords like that have special properties: perfect balance, the power to cut through enchantments, and they’ll kill just about anything, even the undead. I tried to get Aithusa to make another one a few times, but she always refused. Though, I’m sure you would have found something to complain about even if she had.” In the interest of not rehashing an argument they’ve already had multiple times since he woke, Arthur doesn’t mention the fact that maybe he should have known all this the first time around. Instead, he’s about to ask why Aithusa wouldn’t do it, but when he looks at the warlock’s too-casual expression, it hits him, and all the air seems to vanish from his chest.

_“They’ll kill just about anything.”_

_“I was tempted.”_

_Oh, Merlin,_ he thinks.

There’s a moment of silence that neither of them attempt to fill and Arthur imagines, as he has so many times since Merlin said “I never left” and told him how long it had been since Camelot, the realities of living longer than anyone who’s ever walked the earth, of waiting centuries for someone you aren’t even sure is coming back. Merlin has had to outlive everything waiting for the Once and Future King, waiting for _him_ , and if the guilt of that occasionally feels like it’s crushing Arthur, it’s nothing less than he deserves.

“Thanks for waiting,” Arthur says eventually.

“Thanks for coming back,” Merlin answers immediately, not phased by the non sequitur.

Merlin didn’t have a choice of whether or not to wait any more than Arthur had a choice in coming back, but that isn’t really what either of them mean. They mean _I’m sorry_ and _I’m glad you’re here_ and _I don’t know what I’d do without you_ and _don’t leave_. They don’t need to say all that out loud to hear it, though. They’ve always been good at listening to the meanings behind each other’s words rather than the words themselves and that hasn’t changed over the millennia.

Some things don’t.


End file.
